Paradox
by Banana-Rainbow
Summary: I watched as Blaine... killed him, yet there he sat on the sofa, munching on brains smothered in hot sauce. He sat there as though nothing had ever happened, grinning his goofy grin at me... gesturing for me to take the seat beside him. Of course, I didn't want to... it's not everyday your undead boyfriend became undead...er. DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own "iZombie" or its characters.


He was dead; I saw him die. I watched as Blaine put a bullet through his head and killed him, yet there he sat on the sofa, munching on brains smothered in hot sauce. He sat there as though nothing had ever happened, grinning his goofy grin at me when I walked through the door and gesturing for me to take the seat beside him. Of course, I didn't want to at first. After all, it's not everyday your undead boyfriend became undead...er.

"Liv, I won't bite." He joked, bad pun intended. Well, I wasn't all too sure about that. I'd seen what a full zombie could do, and I was sure they had no qualms with doing that to members of their own kind along with humans.

But seriously, what was I supposed to say? I couldn't just out and tell him, "I'm sorry, Lowell, but I can't trust you since you were shot dead two days ago, and I held your 100% dead, lifeless body in my arms." Yea, I couldn't do that. Calling Ravi was my best bet in these types of situations; however, calling would mean moving, and I didn't seem to be doing any of that in that moment.

"Liv," Lowell called to me. I wanted to go. I wanted to be the Liv he wanted me to be. I wanted to go along with whatever was happening and pretend he never died. I wanted to kiss him again and never let him go. I wanted to be his Liv, but I couldn't be that anymore. He was dead; I saw him die.

"L-Lowell." I managed to speak, and he smiled, once again gesturing to me to come closer. Oh, how I wanted to! "What are you doing here?" I asked, trying hard to hide the inane trembling from my voice. He seemed harmless; there was no reason for me to be so afraid. The most sensible thing to do was stay calm and hear him out. Instead, I wanted to run back out the door I had just come in through.

"Li-! Oh, I didn't know you had company." Peyton says, looking between the two of us as she entered our apartment. "Um, are you okay?" She asks, worry clear in her eyes, and I want to say, "No." I don't.

"Yea, I'm fine. Peyton, can you give us a moment?" I requested as I kept my eyes on Lowell the entire time. If he were truly as crazed as a full zombie, he would have attacked my best friend as soon as she walked through the door. For all I knew, he still could if she stayed any longer than necessary.

"Alright, hollar if you need me." She ordered and tossed a glare in Lowell's direction before walking away.

"Uh-oh, I don't like how this is going. Are you going to break up with me?" He questioned once she was out of earshot. I wish it were something as simple as that. Sighing, I stepped forward and took the seat beside him.

The worst thing to do in a situation like this would be to come out and say it. The best thing to do in a situation like this would be to come out and say it. And by "it" I mean to say, "Lowell, you died!" Again, both options were on the table, and I was unsure of which hand to play. How do you tell your zombie boyfriend that he's more undead than the undead? As far as I know, there's no romance book alive that could give me some sort of tip on this.

Sure, I'd seen every possible type of zombie film, including the romance ones, but none of them had something as messed up as this. They all had the same thing: one shot or stab to the brain, and we were done for. It was supposed to be that simple, so how did something like this happen?

"Liv, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" Lowell asked, reaching for my hand and stopping when I flinched away from his touch. It was a reflex, but I would have done it even if it weren't one. I was wary of him, of his intentions.

"Lowell, you're dead." I sighed, and he looked at more for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. What was so funny?

"Yea, Liv, so are you!" He exclaimed. Oh. _Oh_. He didn't understand. I probably should have been more explanatory in the way I put that. Once he calmed himself back down, I tried again.

"No, I don't mean... zombie dead." I said, muttering the last part just in case Peyton could hear us. "You know what, let's talk somewhere else. Follow me." I ordered, standing up and towing him along with me toward the rooftop.

"Alright, you got me up here. Now, explain yourself." He demanded, taking a seat on the edge. A rooftop. That was such a stupid place to go to. After all, I was standing on one when I watched a bullet go straight through his skull and end his already dead life. How sick was it that I took him to the place where I was most defenseless?

Hugging myself, I walked forward, eyes stinging with fresh tears as I looked down at him. Why was I trying so hard to fight this? He didn't seem any different than before. What if, in real life, zombies really didn't die from a headshot? What if they merely went into a slumber for a couple days before waking back up? We really didn't know all that much about the zombie virus, so there was a chance that we were wrong about them being able to die… right?

"Lowell, what's the last thing you remember?" I questioned him, and he looked at me like I was an idiot.

"Following you up here." He answered, and I sighed.

"No, I mean before today. Do you remember my plan to assassinate Blaine after I found out that you got your brains from him and how I was planning to shoot him after I ate the brain of a professional sniper? How I chicken out at the last minute, and you took the initiative?" I questioned him.

"No." He replied. No? He didn't remember? How could he not remember dying? "Why?" He asked me, and I looked him the eyes.

"Because you died, Lowell! Blaine shot you in the head after you tried to kill him!" I shouted, slapping my hands over my mouth only after I was finished. He said nothing, merely stared at me with wide eyes and a slightly parted lips. _Crap_. "Lowell, I-."

"I died?" He wondered, and I nodded. "That's not possible. If I was dead, I wouldn't be here. Besides, I don't recall any of that ever happening. Are you sure you didn't just dream it all up?" He questioned. I was beginning to wonder the same thing. Was it all a dream? No, I _saw_ him laying on a metal table in the morgue. I saw him, _felt_ him! There was no way that was a dream.

"It wasn't a dream. You were dead. I know what I saw, Lowell." I argued, unable to stop the tears from coming down my face.

"Alright, I died. I believe you. What I don't understand is why it matters so much?" He asked.

"Why does it matter? I don't think you understand. I saw you die; I held your dead body in my arms. I was questioned by the cops as a suspect, never getting a chance to grieve your death. Do you have any idea what that's like? No, you don't. So yea, Lowell, it does matter. It matters a lot." I snapped at him, feeling my own eyes flash for a moment and stain the world in red.

"You're right. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said that. Though, it feels like you're blaming yourself for what happened." He noted, and he had no idea how right he was. Taking a seat beside him, I was the one to reach for his hand this time.

"Yea, I do." I admitted, feeling my heart swell. Why was I rejecting him? I had him back with me, safe and in my sights. I should've felt ecstatic, filled with overwhelming joy. "You wouldn't have even been on that rooftop with Blaine if it weren't for me and my stupid plan. I was the one who asked you to do that? I put you in harms way because I started something that I couldn't even finish. I could have killed Blaine when I had the chance, but I lost my will to do so. In the end, you were the one to make a move.

"You tried to finish what I couldn't, and Blaine saw right through you. He killed you, took you from me by pulling a single trigger. You shouldn't have even been involved, and I'm sorry that I put you in harm's way." I apologized, tightening my grip on him with every passing second.

"Did you tell me that you were calling off your attack?" He asked.

"Yea, but-."

"And I still tried to kill him?"

"Yes, but-."

"But nothing. In the end, it was my own choice. I must've seen a reason for trying to kill him. I did what I did because _I_ wanted to, and that had nothing to do with you." He told me, and I frowned.

"The thought would have never crossed your mind if it wasn't for me." I retorted.

"How do you know?" He countered. As much as I didn't want to admit it, he had a point. How did I know? What if he saw the visions of the person he ate being murdered by Blaine and took action without me ever having to say a word? "Liv, it's over. You did nothing wrong. It's time to move on." He said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on my forehead.

"Moving on isn't as easy as you would think." I responded, and he smiled at me.

"It isn't easy because you're not making it easy. You control how things go in your life, even with your personality changing diet." He assured me, and suddenly I understood. Laughing, I felt my tears begin to stream down my cheeks.

"You're not really alive, are you?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer, the painful, ugly truth.

"No, Liv, I'm not." At least, he was honest.

"What is this?" I questioned.

"Right now, you're in the morgue with Ravi, and he's trying to find some way to snap you out of your shock." That made sense.

"So, this is all a dream?"

"Yea, Liv, it is." Crying, I stood and headed toward the door. "What are you going to do?"

"Never wake up." I answered, and he frowned, eyes filled with a sadness that I didn't want to see. No matter what I did, I kept hurting him. I kept hurting everyone in my life. Considering I was supposed to have died at that boat party, what good was I continuing to pretend to be alive? All I did was hurt people and lie, more to myself than anyone else. I was still playing the part of being human, but I knew I wasn't.

"You can't do that, Liv. You have to wake up." He said, chasing after me and grabbing onto my wrist.

"Why? Who do I _have_ to wake up? There's nothing for me in that world, Lowell. You're dead, Major and I are over, my family thinks I'm a depressed, antisocial weirdo, and I eat brains for a living! There is nothing good about the new life or 'second chance' I was given." I returned.

"Yes, there was something good. After all, you save lives, probably more lives than you could have saved as a doctor. You're just too blind to see that. I guess that makes me an idiot for thinking you were different." He said, and I stared up at him with wide eyes.

"The only thing different about me is that I'm an undead freak."

"So was I!" That's right; Lowell understood. He was the only zombie I knew that understood. He wasn't like Blaine in any way; rather, he was like me. He was playing the role of a normal human and lying to everyone he met. He had to live with eating brains for the rest of his life and then, even worse, his life was cut short once again as he came face-to-face with a bullet.

"What do I do?" I asked, caving to his wishes and holding his hand.

"One thing."

"What is it?"

"Kiss me, one last time." He said, and I smiled.

Even if he was just an illusion, he was still my Lowell. Taking a deep breath, I leaned into him and tried my best to fight my tears as I felt his lips press against my own. He was cold, colder than I was, almost like ice, yet I felt warm. It was as though he was filling me with a sense of peace that I hadn't felt since before I decided to go to that boat party.

Suddenly, I wasn't just a zombie anymore. I was a third-dimensional person who feels pain and fear like everyone else. Perhaps, I wasn't _exactly_ like them, but there was nothing wrong with being different. Kissing Lowell was like a wake up call, a much needed reality check. Sliding my hands up his neck and into his dark locks, I let myself get lost in the feel of his lips, those magical lips that somehow made all the bad go away. He wasn't the real Lowell, but he was still Lowell. And that was our last kiss, the last moment we had to hold one another. Our last meeting.

"Liv!" Ravi shouted as I sat bolt upright on top of one of the metal tables we used to open up the dead. It was also where I cut open corpses' heads in order to eat their brains. "Liv, are you alright? Can you hear me?" Ravi bombarded me with questions as he flashed a bright light in my eyes.

"Jeez, Ravi, get that light out of my face!" I demanded, slapping his hand away and glaring. Dropping the light, he pulled me into his arms and held me there.

"I thought I lost you." He whispered, at the brink of breaking down in tears, and I smiled, returning his embrace.

"No, you haven't lost me. I'm not going anywhere." I assured him. "After all, this is my home."


End file.
